Playing
by Dylan Cruca
Summary: After their first kiss, Kurt is as protective as usual. As they walk back to the safe house together, they make a friendly wager.


**A/N-I think it is probably obvious by now that I like to hijack endings and change them a little. One of the things that always bugged me about their first kiss was the way Kurt practically had an aneurysm when he heard that her detail had lost her, but then he sends her off on her own. Sure, you could argue that he was surprised or that he knew she could protect herself, but he is pretty much unendingly protective of her except for that moment. I decided to rewrite with Kurt being as overprotective as he always is. He seemed so enamored right after that, until "the park." This is, obviously, totally AU at this point since so much has happened since then, but I hope it's an enjoyable read.**

 **I don't own the characters.**

 **Thanks to all the Blindspot and Jeller fans out there, and thanks to everyone who takes the time to check out this story.**

* * *

- ** _Playing_** -

Jane started to disappear into the darkness of the street, and as her shadow began to blend into the other shadows, Kurt felt a moment of panic. "Take these up to your mom. I'll be right there," he said to Sawyer, pushing the door closed behind his nephew before he ran after Jane.

She seemed quite startled as he jogged up to meet her, and she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Give me fifteen minutes, and then I'll walk you home."

"I'll be fine."

"I know you will," he cautiously answered, "but I can't be mad at your detail for losing you and then just let you wander the streets on your own."

"I can handle myself."

"I know you can. But we're all better with backup. Come on, humor me. Let me get dinner ready for them so Sarah doesn't give Sawyer food poisoning, and then I'll walk with you."

"I don't—"

"Please," he interrupted. "Besides, I'm dying to see how you got outta there without being seen."

"Okay," she capitulated.

"Thank you," he sincerely replied, nodding back toward his door. He tapped the security code in and then gestured for her to enter, realizing that his hand had found its way to her back as she stepped inside.

As soon as they entered his apartment, Sawyer whispered to his mom with the loudest whisper Kurt had ever heard, "That's her. I told you he was ki—" his voice muffled as Sarah covered his mouth with her hand and pretended she was hugging her son.

"Hey, Taylor," Sarah welcomed, "it's good to see you." Sarah hugged Jane and added, regretfully, "I'm so sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable last time—"

"It wasn't you," Jane shook her head. "It's just hard. I'm trying to figure out how I fit in to everything now that I'm back."

"Well, you're back, and that's what matters," Sarah smiled widely, her eyes flashing happily at her brother. She asked Jane, "Can you stay for dinner?"

"I know you have plans, and I said I'd babysit," Kurt interrupted, hoping his family wasn't going to embarrass him too much more. "I'll start dinner, can you give me a half hour to run her home before you go out?"

"I could…" Sarah said, scheming, "but I just got a call…my date canceled, so there's no hurry. You can take your time. Taylor, you could—"

"Jane," Kurt corrected with a harsh whisper.

"I'm sorry," Sarah continued. "Jane…maybe you could stay for dinner?"

Jane hesitated, "Oh, I don't—"

Kurt interrupted, "She doesn't want to hear more stories about what an idiot I was."

"What an idiot you 'were'? As in past tense?" Jane teased.

He smiled, pleased that she was relaxed enough to joke around. "Yea," he teased with mock pride, "today I am twice the idiot I was as a child."

He hurried out to the kitchen to throw something together for his sister and nephew, and Sarah took a spot next to Jane. "So, Jane," she said, intentionally choosing the preferred name, "what's new?"

"Not much," Jane shrugged. "Just the usual, you know, running around pretending to be a federal agent and tagging along with your big brother. I guess some things haven't changed."

Kurt was surprised that she made so casual a reference to their childhood days. "For just _pretending_ to be an agent, you're really good at it," he complimented from behind the counter.

Jane glanced up at him and then their eyes held for a few seconds too long, and he felt warmer as he remembered the way she'd kissed him only a few moments earlier. He had not seen that coming when he saw her waiting for him outside his door. Then he saw Sarah standing behind Jane, grinning at him in a stupidly excited way, and he concentrated on avoiding both of them for the time being.

Possibly noting his avoidance, Jane picked up an art project Sawyer was working on, and Sarah hurried over to her brother while Jane was occupied. "Were you seriously making out with her in front of the building? That's an awful lot of PDA for you," Sarah asked, her enthusiasm contradicting any reproach that might have been suggested by her choice of words.

"No," he scoffed.

"Sawyer said—"

"The kid's exaggerating."

"He is? I mean, he's a boy. He exaggerates about how much Aidan bled when he fell at recess today or how starving he is when he wants a snack ten minutes after dinner…he doesn't usually exaggerate about, like, girls or kissing."

"This conversation is over," Kurt insisted.

"I can't believe it," she still grinned, shaking her head, "you and Taylor—"

"Jane," he corrected again.

"Jane, sorry," Sarah replied. "You like her? Maybe more than like?"

"What part of 'this conversation is over' didn't you understand?"

"Oh, I understood just fine," she taunted, "but I don't have to take orders from you."

He scowled, irritated that she could be just as annoying to him now as she was twenty years ago, and then Jane came over to rescue him. "Quite the artist you have there," she said, nodding toward Sawyer.

"Yes," Sarah replied, turning her smirk-filled joy to Jane. "You know what, Kurt…I can finish up dinner. Maybe you should take Jane out…grab a drink before she goes home?"

Kurt realized that Jane was probably uncomfortable that a moment that was clearly meant to be just between the two of them was now known by his nephew and his somewhat pushy although well-meaning sister. He quickly gave Sarah instructions to finish the meal, and she responded, "You know, we did manage to eat before we moved in with you. I know how to cook."

"You know how to burn stuff and under-season," he answered before she smacked his arm.

* * *

They began the walk home from his apartment, and, when they were suddenly alone again, Jane started to wonder what in the hell she'd been thinking. While Patterson had poured her heart out earlier that night, talking about how she'd pushed David away and the regrets she had because of it, Jane felt a need to see Kurt that propelled her right to his doorstep with a real sense of determination and purpose. Although she hadn't really thought about how that exchange would end.

Sawyer's interruption had seemed ill-timed, but as she'd started to leave, she optimistically considered it fortuitous. After all, the boy had saved her from any further explanation, and from deciding how and when to walk away. And then Kurt had called after her and offered to walk her home. While they were up in his apartment, being studied by Sarah, Jane had been dying to leave, but now they were alone, and that presented a whole new set of problems.

"You didn't have to walk me home," Jane finally said, feeling overwhelmed by the silence.

"I know. Maybe I just felt like taking a walk," he answered, and she felt him watching her, his expression already softer than it had ever been before she'd shown up that night.

She hadn't really expected him to seem so affected. She wasn't exactly sure what Kurt's personal life was usually like, but she suspected he didn't really have trouble meeting women, and she really hadn't thought a kiss would be that big of a deal to him, but it certainly felt like he was looking at her differently.

"If I'm going to bawl out your detail tomorrow for losing you, I can't really take my eyes off you until I know you're safe. Can I?" he questioned.

"Wait—"

"Look, I know you're more than capable and well-trained, one of the best, but they are, too. That's their job, their only job…to make sure nothing happens to you. I know you don't want to get anyone in trouble, but if you can get out, someone else can get in. And I'm not letting you get attacked in your own home. Not again."

"It's not that," she said, grabbing his arm and turning him toward her. "Please…as a favor to me. Don't say anything."

She was right in front of him, looking up into his eyes, talking on the sidewalk just like they had before she'd kissed him. He smirked just the tiniest bit, a twitch at the corner of his mouth, and then she saw the way his eyes dropped to her lips, and it made her heart thud expectantly as she heard her own tiny, nervous chuckle escape. She had to look down for a few seconds to regain her focus before she resolutely looked back into his eyes. "Please," she pleaded, following with a more demanding tone, "I don't have any freedom. I feel like a prisoner, eyes on me, every single moment of every single day. I just…sometimes I want to pretend to be normal for a few minutes. Leave my house without being followed. Take a walk. Blend in."

Weller looked away, thoughtfully considering the request. His head tilted slightly, the typical unyielding line of his brow softened and his jaw wasn't quite as squarely clenched. Then those eyes, somehow bluer, clearer, gentler, took hold of hers. "It's not a punishment, Jane. I just…I don't want anything to happen to you. I need to do everything I can to protect you."

For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again, and she certainly wasn't doing anything to dissuade him. It seemed like somehow they'd gravitated closer without ever actually moving. Her chin was tilted up toward his face and she felt the tides tugging at her feet, luring her into the rip current. She shook her head, demanding focus as she dug in, "So are you going to have me followed forever? Am I going to have body guards or agents watching my every move for life? Never go out for drinks or to the store without a tail?" She cleared her throat and asked, "Do you _really_ wish I wouldn't have snuck out tonight?"

His mouth opened slightly before he began to speak. He subtly shook his head before a smirk became a full but shy smile. "No. That's not what I want at all. You should feel free to show up on my doorstep absolutely any time you want."

She felt that tingling over her skin that so often accompanied those jolts of arousal he seemed to provoke in her so easily. She shook her head, biting her lower lip to try to stop the doubtlessly huge grin that was about to emerge. "So maybe it's best if you don't mention it to my detail or Mayfair?"

"Alright," he conceded, his light mood evaporating as his need to protect her took over. "But I want to take a look around your place. Make sure it's secure."

"Okay," she said with a victorious smile. She reached out for the open edge of his jacket, her fingers gently tugging for just a second before she withdrew her hand. "Thank you."

There were a few times just in the preceding minutes that she thought he was going to kiss her, and each time he seemed to purposefully elect not to do so. It made her wonder why. Did he not share the same attraction she felt for him? Was it because of his job? Did he still see her as a childhood friend instead of a grown woman? His hesitation made her nervous, and she wondered if maybe kissing him had been a huge mistake. She certainly hoped he wasn't trying to gather the courage to tell her that nothing more than friendship could exist between them.

As he stared at a neon sign in a window across the street, he said, "I'm thirsty. You want to grab a beer before we get to your place?"

"Sure," she answered.

* * *

Kurt ordered an oversized mug of beer and then looked at her to ask what she wanted. She didn't answer. She leaned her forearms against the bar and seemed to be staring at her hands. "Hey," he said, wondering what in the hell was going on behind those beautiful eyes. She turned, looking startled, and he asked, "You want a drink? You want me to order you something?"

"Bourbon," she finally said, nodding at the bartender.

"Look, if you want to go—" Kurt began.

"Oh no. I don't want to go," she interrupted. "Sorry. I was just thinking."

"About anything good?" he asked, turning on the barstool to partially face her. He really didn't understand how a woman like her could seem nervous just getting a beer with him.

She was flustered, and it just drew him to her, and as she turned on her seat to partially face him as well, her knee pressed into his leg just above his knee. He wasn't sure how such a meaningless touch could feel so exciting, but for some reason, it did.

He felt like his mind was reeling too far too fast, so he started chatting with her about more innocuous things.

They talked for nearly an hour, leaning closer as time went on, casual brushes between knees and thighs, hands and arms, meant to appear accidental, were becoming so frequent that they were touching almost constantly. He couldn't believe how easy this was and yet so filled with tension at the same time. He laughed easily with her, and when she would laugh back it felt almost too good.

A band started to play, and the music was so loud that it became hard to hear their conversation. They could have happily sat for a few moments in silence, but he took advantage of the excuse to be even closer to her. He leaned over so she could hear, nearly touching her ear with his lips, and questioned, "So how do you get in and out without your detail seeing?"

She swirled her drink in her glass, quickly flashing a look that shot a bolt of warmth right through him. She leaned close as he waited to hear her response, and she replied, "You'll never figure it out."

He looked back, disbelieving and slightly offended. "What?"

"I said," she gently taunted, "that I don't think you could figure it out."

"You're serious?" By now every word she spoke fluttered her breath against his ear, and every time he answered back he resisted the urge to taste the delicate skin at her neck.

"I just think…maybe I'm better at it than you. You can't be the best at everything."

"Better at what?"

"Stealth. Getting in and out without being seen."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"It _sounds_ like the truth," she bragged, her eyes never failing to convey just enough flirtation to keep him on edge.

"Hmm," he thought for a second, "I bet I can find a way in and out of your safe house without being spotted by your detail."

"What are you going to do? Call and order them to stand down?"

"No," he scoffed, chuckling as she questioned his capabilities. "That would be cheating. I can get us in fair and square. No tricks, no string pulling. Just good old-fashioned FBI know how."

"The stakes?"

Something about the way she asked made him imagine, for a second, suggesting something just slightly inappropriate. As much as the idea appealed to certain parts of him, he never wanted anything to happen between them as the result of a wager. After all, he was a man of integrity. Damn integrity. "Loser buys drinks Friday after work?"

"Drinks?" she asked, sounding disappointed.

"You have a better idea?" he asked, watching while her eyes flickered and she swallowed slowly, her tongue peeking out through her lips for a second.

"Since I'm obviously going to win," she teased, "I was hoping to get more out of it."

"You're really certain I'm going to fail?"

"It's not your fault…I can't expect everyone to be as good as I am."

He laughed loud enough for her to hear through the music without closing the gap. "Fine. You name the prize."

"You can take me out for a night. No detail. Just us. Your treat."

"Wow," he confidently countered, "so you want one more moment that's just us?" He watched her flinch a little uncomfortably, so he quickly added, "Fine. Because I'm going to win anyway. What do I get when I show you I'm the best?"

"I'll buy dinner and we can eat at my place. Or yours, if you prefer."

He shook his head, suppressing a smile, "Not unless you want Sarah looking over your shoulder. Your place is just fine."

"Deal," she said, reaching out her hand and waiting to shake on the bet.

He paused for just a moment, allowing the seconds of silence to put her just a little on edge before he took her hand, noting the very purposeful firmness of her grip. He dropped money on the bar and stood up right behind her, then waved her toward the door.

A block before her place, he started looking for a good vantage point where they wouldn't be seen. He knew perfectly well that one of the agents in her detail would circle the block at least once an hour, more if something seemed suspicious. As they got closer, he saw one of the agents coming toward them in the distance. Kurt ducked into the alley, pulling Jane behind him.

The alley between the two houses was tight, definitely narrow enough to chimney climb up to the next floor. He hopped up as far as his legs would take him before bracing his hands and feet on either side and shimmying up the bricks of the two houses. He looked down, pleased to see that she followed. Once they reached the third story, Kurt pulled up onto a porch roof at the back of the house. He saw Jane follow, and immediately grabbed her hand, leading her into the shadows that would hide them from the bright glare of the streetlamp.

The agent actually followed down the alleyway for a moment as they heard his shoes grinding the tiny bits of dirt and stone dust into the concrete. Weller stepped closer to the wall, Jane between him and the brick, and he held tightly onto her side to make sure she didn't move. He could claim he was pinning her there as a part of the game, to be sure they stayed hidden and thus win the bet, but he knew he couldn't convince himself of the lie, and he doubted he could convince her either.

But this game was fun, allowing him to do things he'd never do in the field. He'd never risk an operation or their lives just to hold her, and certainly wouldn't use his position of authority in such a way, but for once, they weren't in danger. They were just two people playing a game.

The agent searched the ground level, and Kurt swore he could hear the moment the agent's shoes turned to begin walking back to the street. Kurt glanced at Jane, who looked up at him with obvious challenge before she opened her mouth and took a deep breath, threatening to shout for the agent and destroy any chance he had of winning.

His hand tightened around her hip before moving firmly higher as his fingers reached behind her back, fingertips resting in the dip of her back at her spine. He faintly traced the knobs in her backbone, and he saw an almost invisible shiver come over her, and the threat left her eyes. His free hand moved to the wall by her head, giving her an opportunity to slip away if she really wanted to, and he held his breath as he waited for her choice. She swallowed nervously, showing more concern now than when she'd kissed him earlier. He noted a very controlled part of his brain reminding him that kissing the woman who was all at once a longtime friend, team member and part of an ongoing investigation was not the best decision, but too many other parts of his mind overrode the cons with seemingly unending pros.

She was gorgeous, smart, tough enough to hold her own with anybody, compassionate to those who were vulnerable or in pain, loyal, relentless, and she was… _Jane._

The last point was all he really needed to make his decision.

The next thing he knew, he was kissing her, the arguments in his head suddenly completely drown out and shut down by the almost indiscernible soft moan of ascent she offered. He wasn't carrying a bag this time, so his hands were free. He wondered if she'd abruptly stop him if his touch wandered too far or the kiss lasted too long, and he hoped to god she wasn't going to pull away just yet. But she was the one to deepen the kiss first, her hands behind his neck and on his shoulder, actually pulling him closer.

His hands moved over her form, respectfully, for the most part. He felt the belt loop at the back of her pants, and his fingers poked bravely under her shirt, just a little, to graze over the bare skin between her shirt and her pants. He didn't ever remember a sliver of skin being so enticing. Noting the way the mortar between the bricks was scraping the skin on the back of his hand, he cradled her head to protect her from the abrasive wall as he pushed her more tightly against the house.

Her touches weren't as cautious, one hand climbing down the buttons at the front of his shirt and sliding under to find his skin. When she touched the line of hair on his lower abdomen, his mind flew full throttle forward, already imagining things becoming far more intimate. But her hand moved around to his back, her cool fingers warming against his skin, and he remembered who he had in his arms. He didn't want to rush this, to take advantage, to risk ruining everything and be forced to watch her withdraw, so he rested his forehead against hers and took a moment to catch his breath.

"Was this the whole plan?" she asked. "You thought you could bring me up here and get into my… … _safe house."_

He'd been worried for a split second that she thought he was trying to take advantage of her, but once he comprehended the joke, he chuckled. Looking up at the stars, he said, "Well, we're still outside. If that was my plan, it didn't work…yet."

"Might definitely distract my detail if we take this show to my front door," she joked.

"Oh, it would definitely get a reaction from your detail…and one hell of a call from Mayfair. But I wouldn't win the bet."

"Nothing's more important than winning the bet?" she asked.

He worked desperately to avoid telling her that he'd lose any bet to keep her in his arms for a while longer, but he was determined to play it cool. He was a realist, pragmatic, not prone to silly romanticism. "If winning isn't important, you could forfeit," he confidently suggested.

She patted his chest, "Nice try."

He pressed his palm flat against the brick and pushed his body away from her and the wall. She didn't hurry away, though. She came forward for just a moment, closing the gap for a only a second before she whispered near his chin, "Well then, let's go. Which way?"

He paused for a moment, then pointed at the next roof. She bobbed her head and stepped away, his eyes glued on the way her body moved as she climbed. She was ridiculously sexy, and he was so used to trying to ignore that fact that it felt strange to allow himself to really think about it. Now that he was thinking about it, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to stop.

* * *

Jane smiled as she climbed to the next roof and waited for Kurt to direct her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. She hadn't planned to kiss him when she'd gone to his place; she really didn't know what she'd been planning. Her actions had been intuitive, and admittedly impulsive. But given the way he'd just kissed her back, it certainly seemed like he hadn't minded.

She'd never seen him as happy as he was during this game, and it was exciting to see his almost chronic solemnity ease.

Jane looked at his hands as he climbed up after her, and it almost looked like he'd been in a fight. His knuckles were scratched up from the way he'd kept her body away from the rough brick wall when they'd kissed. She couldn't deny the tingle in every nerve in her body as she recalled the feeling of his body pressing her against that wall just a moment ago.

He somewhat effortlessly reached out for a tree and used it to traverse to a balcony and, careful to avoid any onlookers, swung over to a pipe and used the pipe and bricks to climb to a window at her safe house attic. He had no problem bypassing the window lock and entering before accessing a return register and dropping down into her bedroom. She followed, dusting off her hands before she said, "Not bad."

"Not bad?" he huffed.

"Well, you got in here—"

"Without being seen."

"Yea. But that's not how I get in and out. The bet was that you could figure out how _I_ get in and out."

"No," he argued. "The bet was that I could get in without being seen. But give me a minute, I'll figure it out." He casually walked around the safe house, looking for clues. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had to sneak into a girl's room just for fun?" he chuckled reminiscently.

"How long?" she asked.

He looked at her, somewhat surprised that she wanted an answer to what was meant as a rhetorical question. "My last year at the academy. Met a girl, Katie, I think, at a lake party. Walked about nine miles after the car I borrowed broke down."

"Nine miles?"

"Yea. And I probably would have walked three times that far. If that surprises you, I'm guessing you don't remember much about seventeen year-old boys."

"Was it worth it?" she smirked.

He shrugged, "Well, it was at first…until her mom figured out I was there, and her dad and about twenty brothers chased me."

"Twenty brothers?"

"A slight exaggeration," he confessed. "Right here," he said, pointing to a small window that didn't appear to open. Wiggling the window, he pulled it from the wall. He guessed his shoulders wouldn't fit through that small opening, but she could fit through. "You get out there. Once you're out, you can probably go across the roofs, or even back through the alley without being seen."

"How'd you figure that out?" she asked, nodding with admiration.

He pointed on the floor with his shoe at a fleck of paint that had been dislodged from her previous escape.

Jane was enjoying the gentle banter between them, and then he faced her, and the look in his eyes was intense and adoring, and suddenly she remembered this wasn't a game at all. The man in front of her was Kurt, the person she cared for most in this new life of hers. They could either be starting something great or destroying what they already had, and suddenly she felt like she'd been taking some huge risks.

She'd opened this figurative door, and now he was standing there, and she wondered why she'd been so impulsive earlier that night. The feeling changed from lighthearted and fun to heavy and anxious as she tried to figure out what in the hell to say or do.

Obviously noting her sudden reservation and worry, he looked toward the door and said, "I—I should go. Umm…I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," she replied as she watched him walk away. "Kurt, wait," she said a bit loudly.

"Don't worry," he answered before she could continue. "I'll go out the way I came in so your detail doesn't know you've been sneaking out. We should secure the attic so no one can get in the way I did. We won't seal your escape window so you can get out. Just promise me you'll be careful."

He started walking back toward the return register he'd come through when he'd entered, and she took quick steps to cover the ground between them.

"Sounds like you're buying dinner on Friday," he mentioned.

"Yup."

"I had fun tonight," he added as he reached up toward the opening in the ceiling.

She put her hand on his shoulder and added, "Me too. Kurt, I…"

He lowered his arm, and paused to give her his full attention, waiting for whatever she was about to say. Unfortunately she had no idea what she wanted to say. The truth was too much. He'd been her safe place, her starting point, the person who'd been there for her in this lonely world.

"Something wrong?" he asked, and she could see the look on his face as he braced himself for her answer.

"I—I just—you know…"

He chuckled as she paused, and he sarcastically replied, "Yea. You pretty much explained it all."

She shook her head, hitting his arm pretty hard even though she'd meant for it to be a playful jab. Then she took a sharp breath to steel her resolve and said, "You don't have to go yet. But i—if you want to go, I should say goodbye first."

His eyes were full of want and anticipation, and when he finally said, "You want me to stay, or should we say goodbye for the night?" his voice sounded lower, gravelly, and so sincere that she didn't even have to question her next move.

Her hands fisted the two sides of his open jacket near his chest and pulled him down, kissing him firmly on the lips for a second before she moved back to look at him. One arm still hanging casually at his side, his other hand curled around the back of her head and guided her back to him.

This kiss was so much hungrier, the two finally really out of the public eye. Touching him did not ease her desire to be near him, it only ignited it. Her fists still holding onto his jacket, she pushed him back against the wall, missing the closeness they'd had earlier when he'd done the same thing to her. She felt his hands lock behind her lower back, pulling her body up against him, her tiptoes barely keeping contact with the floor. Her hands traveled under his jacket, moving over his button down shirt.

In recent weeks, she'd had flashes of memories of sex in her past, but those were images that lacked sensation. She'd spent nights alone, her eyes tightly closed as she fantasized, but those didn't feel like this either. At that moment, she completely disagreed with anyone who said fantasies were better than reality.

Her fantasies and memories were cold, distant and completely lacked vibrancy. Kurt was there, real, warm against her, his body firm, his heart beating beneath her fingers. He was interactive, full of life and breath, and she hadn't experienced anything like this since she'd been reborn as Jane Doe. He didn't stop her when she unbuttoned his shirt and she didn't miss a beat when he slid her heavy leather jacket off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, but when her fingers grabbed his belt, he momentarily paused this frenzy.

He looked at her, searching her face for answers and certainty. She watched the heavy way he breathed with need, the excitement throughout his body, and she hoped to hell he wasn't going to walk away now. She kissed him immediately to persuade him, just gently on the lips, and when he kissed her back once again, she allowed her palm to drift lower, freely touching this man she'd wanted for almost as long as she could remember. Her hand moved to his sex, pressing firmly against the hardness that only grew as she continued.

The back of her leg hit the bed, and she fell back as if it had tripped her. Although she tried to convince herself that it was an accident, she knew she exaggerated the fall, pulling him along just to feel his weight above her on the bed.

She was hurrying things along, in truth hoping that she wouldn't lose her nerve and he wouldn't come to his senses, because she worried that if either of them thought this through, they'd stop. Clothes were yanked from limbs, bodies suggestively meeting while they explored each other.

When he pulled back to remove the last of her clothes, she felt the cold air on her bare body, and for just a moment that cold jarred her to reality. She wasn't sure if she really remembered how to be a good lover. She understood the act, but she also knew enough to know that good sex was about so much more than mechanics. Like so many other physical activities, she wondered how much her body already knew that her waking memory had forgotten.

Still trying to race forward in the hopes that nothing would stop them, she wrapped her legs around him and grabbed his shaft, digging her heels into his ass to encourage him inside her. He wasn't so easily spurred, although he didn't slow their race toward each other. He reached his hand between her thighs and sought her warmth, his finger sliding over her, exploring her sex before slipping into her.

She peeked through the tiny slit in her eyelids and watched him. His teeth held his lower lip in his mouth as he groaned at the feeling of her. His other hand found her breast, rolling her nipple before he moved his lips to her neck and tasted her skin. When he pressed a second finger into her core, she gasped, grabbing the back of his head as she felt him moving inside her, his fingers longer and thicker than her own, and she felt the excitement and desperation of an approaching orgasm.

She wanted to feel _him_ , though, all of him, plunging into her body. The first coherent words she'd spoken since they'd collapsed on the bed were, "Inside me. I want you inside me."

He guided himself to her entrance obediently, only barely inside her. Then he took her hands in his, threading their fingers as he pushed the rest of the way into her body, watching her. He lowered his forehead to hers when looking at her became too much, appreciatively accepting the pleasure of this shared moment. Still holding her hands, he started to move, slowly at first, once again staring at her face with such intensity that she thought she might catch fire.

When he let go of her hands to brace his weight better, his hips started moving more fluidly, and he began to pound into her with a tempo and force that made her breath hitch with each thrust. He rolled unexpectedly until she was on top of him, and gazed up at her with lust and adoration. His hands on her hips, he watched her ride him for a few moments.

She saw his expression, and suspected that he was either trying to figure out if this was all real or committing the moment to memory. The slightly slower pace didn't last, and soon she was writhing over him, her hips jerking down as his lifted up with unrelenting vigor. She closed her eyes and thanked the stars she saw for the FBI's stringent fitness requirements.

As his control started to falter, his muscles tightening as he fought off climax and tried to hold back, she felt like the most desired woman in the world. And then it snapped, the high plateau she'd been at for quite a while abruptly reaching its zenith. His pace quickened even further while her body seized pleasure, and although she couldn't really see, she heard the deep groans of satisfaction as he joined her before they both collapsed.

She rested her head on his chest, the sweat gathering between their bodies, and she felt him tenderly kiss the top of her head as he whispered, "Fucking mind-blowing."

"What?" she giggled.

"It was…you are… _completely_ mind-blowing." His wide hand practically covered her back, skating lazily over her skin.

"You are," she retorted, sounding almost argumentative before she sighed happily.

Although they were mostly silent, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Her mind briefly recounted the potentials for disaster that this evening could spawn. They hadn't used protection or figured out what was going on between them or discussed what this meant for their working relationship. At best, things between them were ill-defined, at worst…well, she didn't even want to consider that scenario. She wasn't sure if this was a beginning or an end. He was the person she trusted most in the world, the one person who really made her feel connected, like a real human being instead of a case file. Those thoughts of reality were distant, though. She wasn't ready to let go of this perfect moment, of the feeling of being cared for (maybe even loved) and sated and completely at ease with herself and another person. Those worries would still be there tomorrow.

At least that's what she thought until he surrounded her waist with this hands and firmed his grip. "I guess I should head out."

She started to feel things crashing down, those worries that had been held at bay only seconds earlier flying at her at light speed. "Oh," was the only thing she managed to say.

Clearly sensing her feeling of rejection, he tilted her to mouth to his and very sweetly kissed her. "I won't be gone for long. I just figured I'd go out and come right back."

"Why?" she asked, the screaming concerns silencing slightly.

"Well…if that was how you say 'goodbye'…I'm dying to see how you say 'hello.'"

He chuckled mischievously as she pinned his wrists to the bed above his head. "You really want to know?" she asked, threatening as she tried not to return his laughter.

"Definitely," he answered, the teasing sound leaving his voice as his eyes looked over her body before settling on her face.

She leaned down, placing her elbows on the bed beside his head and closing the distance between them. Her lips almost touching his, her expression and tone full of promise, she whispered, "Let me show you."


End file.
